


Planing Splintered Edges

by providentialeyes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Begging, Bonding, Breeding, Canon-Typical Violence, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Creampie, First Time, Forced Bonding, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, Other, Pack Dynamics, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pre-Canon, Rough Sex, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Were-Creatures, discussion of pack dynamics, first heat, non-binary john marston, presenting, there's discussion of prepping a rabbit to eat, where do i petition to make that an actual TAG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 14:31:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providentialeyes/pseuds/providentialeyes
Summary: "Why you actin' like this?" Arthur asks, tone pitching up with confusion, "Like you're a good lil' Omega."John's brows furrow in confusion and then hurt, surprising the older man."I know I ain't…" John sniffs sharply and digs his fingers into his thighs, "I ain't a 'good' Omega. I'm tryin'.""Why, John?" Arthur asks pointedly, "Any Alpha in town even suggests you do somethin' and you go feral on 'em. Why you actin' tame now?"





	Planing Splintered Edges

**Author's Note:**

> alright so a forced claiming happens to john, it happens off screen and isn't graphic or sexual 
> 
> it's the physical act of an alpha wolf biting john on his claiming spot
> 
> for which the fucker is promptly taken care of
> 
> this is explained and then referenced several other times
> 
> there's an instance of john misunderstanding arthur's intentions and thinking he's about to mated kinda out of the blue 
> 
> and then john does mention that he's thought about arthur being rough when claiming him, though in a consensual way and that is ultimately what actually happens
> 
> hole, slit, and clit are used for john 
> 
> as with expectations "regarding wolves and a/b/o in this universe and p much every werewolf au i write
> 
> omega are all born afab and alpha are born amab beta are born either or intersex
> 
> transness is common and accepted amongst werewolves both binary and nonbinary regardless of assigned gender or secondary gender designation
> 
> because i'm trans and i said so lmao"

"Art?" John asks, but his voice is weak.

Arthur glances up from his journal as a rush of cold air meets him, only to see John standing in the entrance to his tent.

"Alright, John?" Arthur asks slowly, because John doesn't look alright at all.

Shaky, thinner than he was when Arthur left on a job with Dutch two weeks ago.

John studies him for a minute then ducks his head.

"Glad you're back," The younger murmurs.

Arthur frowns at the way John is carrying himself, reserved… Wounded.

"Somethin' happen?"

John shifts his weight from leg to leg, hesitating.

"Got into a fight," John mutters, "Weren't my fault."

Arthur hums low in his throat, a sound of disappointment, the same tone he used when John was younger and picked fights needlessly.

He sees the set of John's shoulders tighten.

"Come in here, get outta the cold," Arthur says firmly.

John shuffles for a moment then steps in, letting the canvas fall closed behind himself.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Arthur asks easily as he looks back down to his journal.

"Drunk fella wouldn't leave me be," John mutters and rubs at the side of his head, "Thought I could knock him out, with how liquored up he was. Just made him angry."

"You hurt?"

"I'm fine," John says, unconvincing with the exhaustion under each word, the tension in his vowels.

Arthur's mouth quirks to the side and he closes his journal, looking up at John.

"Don't tell Dutch," John whispers, "No one else knows."

"If you're fine, why's it matter?"

"The man… An Alpha. He claimed me," John says hoarsely, "I killed him."

Arthur blinks in surprise, stunned into silence.

"Just needed to see you," John whispers, "G'night."

The younger turns and takes a step back the way he came.

"John," Arthur says quickly, "Stay here for a minute."

John stills, slowly turns back around.

"You ain't told anyone?" Arthur asks quietly as he stands and moves closer, "You just been goin' through a Break alone?"

"I… It's not that bad," John mutters.

"You look like you ain't slept in a week, if not more," Arthur takes another step closer, "When'd this happen?"

"Two days after you left."

Arthur takes another step closer and John ducks his head submissively.

"You… You ain't gotta do that," Arthur mutters then takes a slow breath in, "You don't smell claimed."

"Good," John says bitterly but doesn't lift his head.

"Did you, at first?" Arthur frowns, "No one noticed?"

"Don't think it was ever that strong, really," John says quietly, "You n' Dutch are the only ones who'd notice, bein' Alphas."

Arthur hums shortly.

"I'm fine, Arthur, really," John whispers, "Just… Wanted to see you were back."

Arthur sighs but retreats, letting John tuck tail back to his tent.

\--

Arthur sees Dutch squinting at the back of John's head the next day, but John doesn't.

Dutch catches his eye and quirks a brow, tilting his head at John, a wordless question.

_'He alright?'_

Arthur shrugs, and that's his genuine answer.

\--

Having a pack mixed with wolves and humans was uncommon.

Having a pack of wolves and humans with two Alphas and an unclaimed, unheated, adult Omega was unheard of.

\--

Arthur smells John, before he hears the younger.

Sour tang of sadness and the sharp bitterness of _sick._

John slowly sits down next to him on the bank of the frozen river, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his forehead on his knee.

Arthur doesn't try to force conversation, knows that if John sought him out to talk then the younger would initiate.

"I ever tell you that you smell good?" John asks quietly.

Arthur tilts his head to look at the younger in confusion.

"When y'all picked me up… Dutch wanted me to ride with him, you remember?"

"But you climbed up behind me," Arthur says slowly.

John snorts and lifts his head, rubbing at his jaw.

"’Cause I didn't like the way Dutch smelled," John wrinkles his nose at the memory, "He smelled like a Break. Still does, like it permanently altered his scent."

Arthur hums quietly in agreement.

"You smelled better than that, obviously, but you also just smell _good."_

"What do I smell like?"

John frowns, brows furrowing in thought.

"Like a bakery," John says, lifting his gaze up to see Arthur looking thoroughly amused.

"Not sweet," John says quickly, "Like the ovens. Brick n’ clay burnin' hot as the sun."

Arthur's expression relaxes as he studies the younger.

"Haven't heard that one before," Arthur says genuinely.

John grimaces and crosses his arms atop his knees.

"You still don't smell like much o' nothin'," Arthur says quietly.

_"I know,"_ John mutters, drops his forehead back to his arms.

"It ain't bad."

"Just pe-cul-i-ar," John says sharply, imitating Dutch.

"Hey," Arthur murmurs, reaches out and taps the backs of his knuckles on the side of John's boot, "How you doin'?"

John glances at him then shrugs lightly.

"Sleep?"

"Could be better," John mutters.

"Hm," Arthur stretches out his legs and rises to his feet, offering a hand down to John, "I have an idea."

\--

Arthur's idea consists of him bullying John into the older man's tent before constructing a pseudo-nest on the floor, layering his bedroll with all manners of soft and comforting things.

Arthur sits back on his heels when he's done and looks up at John, who's been awkwardly lingering at the entrance while watching.

"Know you've never done this but I think this is right," Arthur says and holds out a hand to John.

"... You don't have to do this," John says hoarsely glancing quickly between the nest and Arthur.

Arthur rolls his eyes and wiggles his fingers.

"Get down here, John, you're makin' me look a fool."

John ducks his head, quickly steps forward and drops to his knees, roughly enough that it makes Arthur wince.

He drops his hand from where it was hovering and stares at John for a moment.

"I didn't mean it like that," Arthur says gently.

John tenses, forces himself to relax and then shrugs, all in a matter of seconds.

"John…" Arthur murmurs, "Do you want this?"

"... Yessir," John whispers, voice crackling.

Arthur frowns at him for a moment longer then shifts to stand.

He sees John twitch away from him before stilling.

Then John leans closer and reaches for Arthur's belt with trembling hands.

"Woah," Arthur says sharply and catches both of John's wrists, hearing the younger's sharp inhale, _"Woah."_

Arthur can feel John's trembling through his hands, though to his eyes John looks still as a statue.

"... What're you tryin' to do?" Arthur asks slowly.

"You made me a nest," John says hoarsely.

"Uh-huh," Arthur agrees hesitantly.

"You wanna mate me," John says, like it's the simplest fact.

Like it doesn't make Arthur's head feel like it's spinning.

Arthur stares down at John for a few tense moments, taking a while to gather a response.

"That… Is not what I was intendin'," Arthur says carefully.

He sees John's brows furrow and the younger looks up at him hesitantly.

"I just thought it would help you sleep," Arthur says, feeling a bit sheepish.

He'd had blinders on, so focused on helping John that he hadn't thought through the implications.

"... Oh," John says quietly.

"I was just standin' to snuff the lantern," Arthur explains and gently squeezes John's wrists, "That okay?"

John nods slowly and sits back on his heels when Arthur lets go of his wrists.

"Why you actin' like this?" Arthur asks, tone pitching up with confusion, "Like you're a good lil' Omega."

John's brows furrow in confusion and then hurt, surprising the older man.

"I know I ain't…" John sniffs sharply and digs his fingers into his thighs, "I ain't a 'good' Omega. _I'm tryin'."_

_"Why,_ John?" Arthur asks pointedly, "Any Alpha in town even suggests you do somethin' and you go feral on 'em. Why you actin' tame now?"

John lifts his hand up and cups the back of his neck tightly, covering the scarred claiming spot.

Arthur's expression goes slack, emotions rising in him, too many, too fast to name.

He takes the few steps to snuff the lantern then carefully moves back to the nest, dropping to crouch in front of John.

"You know you're safe now, right?" Arthur whispers.

"Almost every Alpha that gets me alone _knows,"_ John whispers, rubbing at his nape before dropping his hand, "They can tell I ain't heated and they wanna force it from me. Or claim me… Keep me as a… As a…"

Arthur shifts to sit down and gently nudges John to lay down with a few strategic pokes.

"As somethin' to fuck without the fear o' pups," John forces out finally.

"I'm sorry," Arthur says uselessly.

John takes a minute to respond and ultimately just gives a weak shrug, laying on his side, staring in the dim light at Arthur's hip.

Arthur slowly takes off his belts and holsters, then lays back next to John, scooting down so that they're at eye-level with each other.

John looks exhausted.

Arthur feels it.

The older man lifts his arm in an invitation and John wiggles closer almost immediately, pressing his face into Arthur's chest like he can hide there.

\--

John falls asleep within the hour and Arthur absently runs his fingers up and down the younger's spine until he falls asleep as well.

\--

The change is gradual and it takes two months for Arthur to notice.

John's riding ahead of him on Old Boy and Arthur just happens to be downwind.

John smells like the sweet pines of higher mountains out west.

Like sugar heated low and slow until it’s deep amber.

Arthur blinks rapidly in surprise, staring at the back of John's head.

\--

They make camp a ways off the trail and John lays down next to the fire almost immediately.

"You alright?" Arthur calls as he skins and preps a rabbit for roasting, kneeling a ways upstream.

"Just feel tired, achy," John calls back.

“You hungry?”

John makes a non-committal noise.

Arthur brings the skinned and gutted rabbit over to the fire and threads the roasting stake through it.

Once it’s set up over the fire he sits down next to John’s head.

“You feelin’ funny at all?” Arthur asks hesitantly.

John tilts his head back to look up at the older man, frowning in confusion.

“You… Smell,” Arthur says quietly.

John wrinkles his nose in offense and rolls his eyes.

“No, John, you _smell,”_ Arthur insists.

John’s expression clears of the confusion.

The younger stares up at him before slowly sitting up and turning back towards Arthur.

“Like what?” John asks, eyes flicking over Arthur’s face anxiously.

“Not like heat,” Arthur reassures, “Not yet, at least.”

“But like… Like an Omega? Like a full Omega?” John asks quickly.

There’s an underlying excitement in John’s tone.

Arthur nods slowly.

“Oh my God,” John whispers hoarsely, “Oh my _God.”_

“You know the signs of heat, right?” Arthur asks.

John nods, a bit dazed.

“Not feelin’ any, now, _right?”_ Arthur asks seriously.

John blinks at the older man, and then the fire, and then down at his own legs.

“A couple,” John says, voice lifting nervously, “But not… That don’t mean I’m actually gonna...”

Arthur brings a hand up and scratches at his scruffy jaw.

“It might.”

\--

It does.

\--

“We’re in the middle o’ nowhere,” John mutters, curled into a ball next to the fire, trying to stay warm, his body cooling in pre-heat, preparing for the vicious fever to come.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur says, not for the first time tonight.

“Shut up,” John grumbles, shifts, pulling his blanket tighter around himself.

“We don’t know what to expect,” Arthur says gently, “Mighty unusual for an Omega to heat as late as you.”

“I’m _aware,”_ John growls, eyes flashing wolf-gold at Arthur, shoulders tightening, defensive.

“Don’t get like that,” Arthur sighs, “I’m bein’ honest, John, I’m worried ‘bout you.”

John’s nose wrinkles and his eyes dull back to brown, though he squints at the older man.

“You… You gonna stay with me?” John asks quietly.

“I ain’t leavin’ you alone,” Arthur says firmly, “I’ll guard you.”

John stares at him for a moment then lowers his gaze to the fire.

“Ain’t what I meant, Art,” John murmurs.

Arthur’s eyes widen and he studies the younger, feeling his heart-rate speed up.

“You… When you thought I wanted you, you didn’t seem too keen,” Arthur says slowly, brain trying to play catch up.

“I never imagined it happenin' like that," John says, just as slow, "But I was willin'."

Arthur's silent for a few minutes.

"You've imagined it?" Arthur asks hoarsely, "Us?"

John nods.

"Just… Foolin' 'round? Or…?"

"Used to think about submittin' to you, when I was younger and Dutch was… Harsher," John says hesitantly, "Front o' the gang. Officially. Even if you never claimed me, I wanted to choose you. Even if stayed platonic."

"Then years went on and I… It was gettin' further and further past when I shoulda heated," John murmurs, pushing his hair back, cupping his nape, "I wondered if all those Alphas over the years had a point. If a heat could be fucked outta me."

"And you thought… That I'd…" Arthur's voice falters.

"Not force me," John says and then frowns, "Or… Well…"

"John," Arthur says seriously, _"Or_ what?"

"That maybe you would, that you'd be rough about it, claim me," John says, ducking his head, "That you'd order me to my hands and knees and take me."

"... Jesus," Arthur says hoarsely.

"I'd dream about in more… Abstract ways, sometimes. Just me kneelin' or presentin'. Sometimes I didn't even see you, but I knew it was you."

"Presentin'?" Arthur repeats, scandalized.

John shifts, shrugs.

“You… I thought Omegas didn’t do that anymore,” Arthur says slowly.

John tilts his head back to look up at Arthur.

“... They don’t?” John asks quietly.

“‘Least from what I’ve heard.”

John hums quietly but he looks conflicted.

Then John grumbles and covers himself with the blanket fully.

“I really ain’t a ‘good’ Omega,” Arthur hears John mutter.

The older man sighs and rubs at his face before grabbing a glove and moving the rabbit off the fire.

He slices off some of the meat and places it on a handkerchief, reaching over and setting it in front of the lump that is John.

It only takes a minute for John to peek his head out and glance at the meat, then glance up at Arthur, who’s sitting next to him, working through his own dinner.

“Thanks,” John murmurs and wiggles one hand free to eat.

\--

John wasn’t expecting to feel this_ tired._

Arthur gives him a clean rag to wipe his hands off, and as soon as his hands are clean John burrows back under the blanket, leaving his face as the only thing exposed.

Arthur takes care of cleaning up, getting rid of the remains in order to not attract coyotes, and pitching the tent.

Arthur bends down and offers a hand to John.

“C’mon,” Arthur says gently, “Let’s get you settled.”

\--

Arthur’s layered their bedrolls and blankets on the floor of the tent.

It makes John feel warm, suddenly, an abrupt switch from the shivering mess he’d been a minute ago.

He blinks down at the makeshift nest then looks at Arthur.

The older man gives him a questioning look then John sees him breathe in, chest rising, and Arthur’s eyes widen slightly.

“John… Are you sure you want me to… _Stay?”_

John nods once, firmly, then frowns.

“Do you want to?” John asks genuinely.

“I’ll help you,” Arthur murmurs and reaches out, wrapping an arm around John’s shoulders and pulling the younger close.

John lowers his head to bury his face in Arthur’s neck and breathes deeply.

That same smell of fire-heated clay so much stronger now.

John grunts quietly and shifts in Arthur’s hold.

“What?” Arthur asks on a breath.

“Your scent, it’s… I can smell it more, now,” John murmurs and rubs his cheek against Arthur’s neck.

Arthur huffs a small laugh.

The older man’s hands settle on his waist and squeeze lightly.

“Can we lay down?” John whispers.

Arthur pulls back and they both step out of their boots before John lowers himself to the nest.

He looks up at Arthur, eyes heavy, hot and tired.

Arthur drops down to crouch next to John and slowly turns to sit.

The younger shifts, lays back, watching Arthur.

“You feelin’... Heat, yet?” Arthur asks quietly.

“Mm,” John rubs at his cheek lightly, “A little.”

Arthur scoots closer and brushes John's hair back from the younger's face.

"You scared?" Arthur murmurs, genuinely curious and concerned.

"Nah," John says quietly, tilting his head into the touch.

John closes his eyes and squirms.

When he looks up at Arthur again his eyes are glowing gold.

Arthur brushes his thumb along the top of John's cheekbone.

"Lay down?" John requests softly.

Arthur scoots down and lays alongside John.

Letting his fingers move down to John’s neck, and then behind, cupping John’s nape as the younger turns towards him.

“Art,” John gasps, ducks his head, “You don’t gotta…”

“Do you want me to?” Arthur asks, voice low.

“I’d kneel for you,” John whispers, looking up again cautiously to see Arthur’s reaction, “I’d present for you.”

Arthur takes a deep breath in then pulls John close, wrapping his other arm around John’s back and holding the younger tightly.

“You want me to knot you?” Arthur growls.

He hears John’s breath hitch and the younger’s hands curl in the front of Arthur’s shirt.

“Hm?” Arthur leans in and presses his lips to John’s cheek, tilting his head to bite lightly at the side of John’s neck.

John makes a small noise, high and thready, then hooks a leg over Arthur’s thighs, pressing his hips to the older man’s.

Arthur slides his hand down John’s back and hitches the younger’s thigh up higher, moving to grip John’s ass firmly.

John rocks his hips against Arthur’s thigh and Arthur can smell John’s arousal getting more obvious.

Can smell his heat.

John moves one hand down and hesitates, his fingers tucked into Arthur’s waistband.

“Whatcha doin’, Johnny?” Arthur teases, scraping his fangs next to John’s claiming spot.

“Is Dutch gonna be mad?” John whispers.

Arthur stills, pulls back slowly.

"He… He wouldn't claim me, but he still… I'm _his,"_ John looks up at him, "In a way."

"Me n' Dutch," Arthur says slowly as he brushes John's hair back, "We ain't had issues like that. We ain't territorial like that."

John hums quietly, considering.

“What’re you worried ‘bout?” Arthur murmurs.

“Would you choose _me?”_ John asks, barely above a whisper, “If Dutch… If he disapproves?”

Arthur draws his lower lip between his teeth.

“I know…” John shrugs lopsidedly, “I don’t want this to split up the gang.”

Arthur snorts quietly, moves to press the pad of his thumb against the middle of John’s forehead.

“You’re thinkin’ an awful lot for smellin’ like you’re deep in heat,” Arthur murmurs.

“You asked me if I was scared,” John whispers, “And I knew what kind of scared you was askin’ ‘bout. That’s why I said ‘no’.”

Arthur takes a deep breath, quickly leans in and presses his lips to John’s.

The younger makes a small, surprised noise then responds easily, pressing close to Arthur again.

Arthur wedges his hand between them and works open John’s trousers, sliding his fingers back through the curls.

John squirms and pulls back to gasp quietly, looking down between their bodies.

Arthur presses a finger into John’s slit and groans quietly at the slick he feels.

“Arthur,” John whispers as the older man tugs down his pants.

“Hm?”

“Let me…” John murmurs and shakily pushes away from Arthur.

Arthur watches as John struggles onto his ass, shoves off his pants and drawers, glancing at Arthur before he pulls the shirts off over his head as well.

John watches Arthur for a moment then turns onto his knees, bowing his back until his chest is pressed to the nest, ass in the air, curling his fingers in the wool as he looks at Arthur.

Arthur makes a small noise, not sure if he’s protesting or not.

It was something of a taboo, for an Omega to _present._

It was considered outdated, humiliating, and degrading to ask of Omegas.

John’s brows start to furrow and he looks more and more uncertain as the seconds pass.

“Art?” John whispers, fingers flexing in the blankets.

“You sure?” Arthur asks hoarsely.

John nods quickly, arching his back further and tilting his hips up.

Arthur kneels next to John, resting his hand on John’s back.

_“Please,”_ John whispers.

“Please what?” Arthur murmurs as he moves to kneel behind John, running his hands over John’s hips.

“Arthur…” John begs quietly, “Claim me. Make me yours.”

“You’re already mine,” Arthur growls and John presses back into the older man’s touch as Arthur drags his hands down the younger’s ass and uses his thumbs to spread John’s slit.

John whimpers and Arthur watches as the younger’s hole clenches around nothing, slick dribbling out.

“You really need it, huh?” Arthur murmurs, “Need an Alpha to knot you up.”

John makes a desperate sound and rocks his hips back.

“You,” John says urgently, “Not _‘an Alpha.’”_

“Me, huh?” Arthur asks, voice rumbling with amusement.

“Yes, _you,”_ John growls, “Stop teasin’ me.”

Arthur hums and drags a fingertip though the slick.

“No teasin’, at all?” Arthur jokes as he barely dips his finger inside John.

The younger squirms and tries to press back but Arthur holds him still.

_“Arthur,”_ John pleads weakly, “Alpha, please?”

Arthur grunts and pushes his finger in to the last knuckle, using his other hand to undo his trousers, releasing some of the pressure on his cock.

“Lemme open you up a bit,” Arthur soothes and drags his fingertip along John’s innerwalls.

“No, no,” John protests and struggles to arch his back further, burying his face in the blanket, _“Claim me.”_

Arthur frowns down at the younger and slides his finger out.

Then he remembers what John had admitted earlier.

_‘That maybe you would, that you'd be rough about it, claim me-’_

Arthur swallows thickly and moves his hand over to squeeze one side of John’s ass.

“Might hurt a bit,” Arthur says hoarsely.

“Do it,” John whispers.

“You gonna be able to tell me to stop?” Arthur asks quietly as he leans over John’s back, “If it’s too much?”

“Yeah,” John says quickly, “Sure.”

Arthur presses down on John’s back, lays a kiss between John’s shoulder blades.

“Move your hair,” Arthur growls as he pulls his cock free of his drawers.

John lets out a shaky whine and reaches back, moving his hair off of his claiming spot.

Arthur leans in, pressing his lips against the spot, resting the head of his cock against John’s hole, John gasping quietly as Arthur threads the fingers of one hand through John’s hair, pulling tightly as he pushes his cock in, one smooth thrust.

Bottoming out.

John cries out sharply and Arthur feels John clenching hard around him, hot and tight and _soaking wet._

“Jesus,” Arthur mutters, grazes his fangs over John’s claiming spot, biting, but not breaking skin.

“Nn,” John whimpers, rocking his hips back weakly, “Yeah, yeah... _Yeah.”_

“Hurt at all?” Arthur whispers against John’s skin.

_“Yes,”_ John’s walls squeeze around his cock, “Alpha… Bree-”

John cuts himself short and bites into one hand.

Arthur closes his eyes, barely pulling out before thrusting back in, hard.

John lets out small, needy whimpers.

“Breed you?” Arthur asks roughly after lifting his mouth off of John’s neck, filling in the blanks.

John doesn’t respond, shifting his weight side-to-side on his knees, squeezing and relaxing and Arthur feels John’s slick leaking out around his cock, moves his hand from John’s hip to underneath the younger, running his fingertips over the blanket until he meets a wet spot.

Just as he suspected.

“Makin’ a damn mess,” Arthur growls, “Soppin’ wet, just from the thought of me breedin’ you?”

John whines weakly.

Arthur cups John’s mound and rubs the pad of his middle finger over John’s clit as he starts up a slow, steady rhythm, thrusting in each time until his thighs hit the backs of John’s.

Arthur lowers his mouth to John’s claiming spot again and digs his fangs in.

“Oh, shit,” John gasps,_ “Alpha.”_

Arthur growls against John’s nape and John reaches back, fingers digging into Arthur’s arm.

The older man pinches John’s clit between the sides of two fingers, shaking off John’s hand and applying all his weight until John collapses to the nest below them.

Arthur rubs John’s clit roughly as he fucks into the younger, biting until he tastes blood.

Until he knows for certain that he’s covering the scars with new ones.

“Art… Alpha,” John whispers as he turns his face, panting, “Want you… Knot me.”

Arthur tightens his jaw for just a second then lifts himself up, thrusting hard to bury his cock in John.

John feels the older man’s cock swelling inside of him, the burning stretch intensifying to the point that he feels dizzy with it.

His hips twitch and he whimpers, teetering on the edge of coming as he feels Arthur’s seed filling him, overflowing and spilling out with John’s slick.

John is lifted up until he’s sitting in Arthur’s lap while the older man sits back on his heels.

Arthur buries his face in John’s neck and thrusts up, rough, shallow, just letting John feel his knot tugging.

John trembles as he comes, barely touched, clamping tightly around the cock inside him.

Arthur groans and moves his hand back to John’s clit, circling his fingertips to drag out John’s orgasm.

“Christ,” John whispers, voice high and thin.

Arthur hums quietly, squeezes John’s thigh firmly and John drops his head forward, breathing heavily.

Arthur smooths his hand up to John’s hip, across the younger’s low belly.

John makes a small noise, clenching around Arthur’s knot.

Arthur presses in on John’s belly, rubbing his cheek over the back of John’s shoulder.

John leans forward, clenching his fingers in the bedroll, rocking his hips in Arthur’s lap.

Arthur huffs quietly.

“Needy,” Arthur murmurs, pushing his fingertips up John’s spine, lifting onto his knees then maneuvering them so they’re laying on their sides and Arthur can tuck John close to himself.

Lightly thrusting, letting his knot barely pop free, then slip back in.

John moves a hand down between his thighs with a shaky sound, fingertips grazing over the base of Arthur’s knot as slick and seed leak out making a mess of his thighs.

Arthur noses John’s claiming spot, pressing his lips gently to the healing wounds.

“You alright?” Arthur asks quietly.

“Feels…” John swallows and twists to look at Arthur, wrapping his arm around the back of the older man’s neck, “Good.”

“I’d hope so,” Arthur mutters.

_“Heat,”_ John whispers, “Can’t think.”

“I know,” Arthur says gently, studies John’s dark eyes, “No pain?”

“Sore,” John says, “Achy.”

“Too much?”

“No,” John shakes his head quickly, “It’s… Good.”

Arthur watches him and brings a hand up to brush his fingers over John’s claiming spot.

John hums.

A small, pleased sound.

“You’re mine now,” Arthur says slowly, “In a… In a bigger way.”

“Yeah,” John nods and leans back into the touch, “And you are.”

“What?”

“Mine,” John murmurs insistently, “You are.”

“... Yeah,” Arthur laughs quietly, “I’m yours.”

It doesn’t feel like what John expected, being claimed.

Bonded.

It feels safe, but Arthur always feels safe.

As he closes his eyes and Arthur holds him he feels…

Softer.

Like the bond is a tight, but not suffocating, _thing,_ cloaking him and rounding off the sharpness of his anxiety, longing, and latent fears.

Preventing the possible catching of his splintered edges.

**Author's Note:**

> [Morston Discord Server](https://discord.gg/tZQp6hX)  

> 
> sorry if there are an unusually high amount of errors im tired


End file.
